


A Good Show

by fuzipenguin



Series: Kinktober 2018 [28]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bukkake, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Multi, Orgy, Other, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 05:31:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16486775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuzipenguin/pseuds/fuzipenguin
Summary: Sunstreaker likes to watch and Sideswipe always makes sure Sunstreaker likes what he sees.Sequel to Day 1





	A Good Show

**Author's Note:**

> Day 28. Bukkake

                Sideswipe had no qualms about diving spike-first into another group of mechs and making himself at home. No one ever complained because Sideswipe was a giver. He loved his own pleasure but he enjoyed others’ even more.

                It was always a nice show if one was more prone to observing than participating, like Sunstreaker. He was pretty possessive over his twin, but as long as he got to watch, he didn’t mind all that much if Sideswipe took on other partners. Especially pretty ones like Prowl.

                Sunstreaker was attracted to the smooth, clean lines of Prowl’s paintjob. Sideswipe favored the strong jawline and intense optics. And they both lusted over his doorwings.

                Part of the attraction was that outside of this room, Prowl held his sensory panels practically immobile. He also chose his words carefully and rarely raised his voice. Yet they both knew that when he joined their group, those doorwings never stayed still and it didn’t take much effort to make him scream.

                He greatly enjoyed oral, especially his valve; that got him screaming the fastest and the loudest. Which was why Sideswipe made it a point to eat him out at least once per session, like he was doing now.

                Those beautiful sensory panels shivered and shook in a mesmerizing dance as Sideswipe lapped at Prowl’s dripping folds. He trembled on all fours when Sideswipe finally grabbed hold of his hips and just buried his face into Prowl’s valve.

                It was a very nice display, although Prowl’s normal vocalizations were missing this time around. Not that Sunstreaker could blame Ratchet; Prowl had a good mouth and absolutely did not care if someone shoved their spike down his throat.

                “Shame we can’t hear ‘im,” Jazz commented, echoing Sunstreaker’s thoughts.

                Sunstreaker slanted a glance downward at the mech currently curled up against Sunstreaker’s side. Jazz had played a little with Bluestreak and Hound earlier, but a recent mission had left him with injuries which weren’t quite healed yet. Ratchet had forcibly removed him from circulation shortly after Jazz’s arrival, frog-marching him over to Sunstreaker’s corner and shoving him down onto the loveseat.

                Jazz had been quiet since and had kept his hands to himself. Over time, he _had_ scooted closer and closer until he was slumped against Sunstreaker’s right side, but Sunstreaker found he didn’t really mind. He favored his left hand when self-servicing anyway.

                “I could overload on his face…” Ratchet suggested, raising his gaze from the top of Prowl’s bobbing head to the two of them. “… if you want to hear him that badly.”

                Ratchet’s optics were bright, his cooling fans loud enough to be heard over Sideswipe’s enthusiastic slurping. Sunstreaker could tell Ratchet was close to coming; watching him spill all over Prowl’s face _did_ have a certain appeal to it…

                “Would ya really do that for us, Ratch?” Jazz asked, coyly tilting his head to the side. There was a hint of challenge to the question. Sunstreaker got the impression that Jazz was still a little miffed with Ratchet’s earlier medical intervention.

                “Sure. Just for you, though, Jazz,” Ratchet said with a smirk.

                Sideswipe suddenly flailed a hand out, making a muffled protesting sound before tearing himself away from Prowl. He thrust three fingers into Prowl’s valve to take the place of his mouth and shook his head at Ratchet.

                “No. On me?” he said, glossa sweeping over his shiny lips. They looked so delectable that Sunstreaker had the sudden urge to call his twin back over, lick the lubricant away from that sinful mouth. But no… Sunstreaker could kiss his brother whenever he wanted; Prowl rarely got a treat like this.                 

                Ratchet blinked in confusion at Sideswipe for a second before his hips made an involuntary thrust with the realization of what Sideswipe was asking for. Prowl choked momentarily, but adjusted his angle and dove back down, nasal ridge smashed against Ratchet’s lower belly. He wiggled his hips, bouncing on Sideswipe’s fingers in an obvious entreaty.

                “You want me to overload on you?” Ratchet asked, confirming. Sideswipe wildly nodded his head and then looked over his shoulder with a gleam in his optics.

                “Anyone can if they want,” Sideswipe said, looking first at Sunstreaker and then nudging his chin up at Jazz. “I figure that’s pretty low on the ladder of ‘strenuous activity’.”

                He then ducked his head again, licking around his fingers buried deep in Prowl’s valve. Contorting himself a little, he latched onto Prowl’s main sensory node and sucked, Prowl’s sensory panels flicking and twisting in response.

                Sunstreaker stood and then leaned down to grab Jazz’s arm. He tugged, and Jazz willingly got to his feet, stretching out his sore leg before looking up at Sunstreaker.

                “Is he serious?” Jazz asked, licking his hips. He palmed his panel, hips rocking into the touch.

                “Oh, very,” Sunstreaker replied, feeling the desperation start to seep along his twin bond. “The more the merrier, honestly.”

                He glanced over at the rest of the room’s occupants but everyone else seemed pretty intent on knocking Optimus offline, so it looked like it would just be the three of them.

                “Well… hate to disappoint,” Jazz murmured to himself, his panel sliding aside. Sunstreaker absently noted Jazz starting to stroke himself, but Sunstreaker was distracted now that he had a closer view of Sideswipe eating out Prowl. His twin’s optics were closed in bliss, lubricant smeared over his cheeks, forehelm, and chin.

                Sideswipe liked getting messy during interfacing. He always said it was proof of a good time.

                Ratchet abruptly scooted back from Prowl, his chest heaving with his ventilations. Mouth finally free, Prowl’s moans poured forth. At a particular hard suck, he face-planted, head turned to one side and cheek pressed against the decking. The tile clouded up from his heated ventilations and Sunstreaker slid closer, gaze flicking from Ratchet, to Prowl, Sideswipe and back again in a loop.

                “Yeah, _that’s_ it!” Jazz called out, practically panting as they all watched Prowl start to break apart beneath Sideswipe’s expert attention. “Give it to him, Sides!”

                Sideswipe was already doing a pretty good job of that, Sunstreaker thought. His glossa lashed over Prowl’s nub repeatedly and he withdrew his fingers only to add in a fourth. Thrusting them in and out rapidly, his thumb flirted with the rim of Prowl’s valve and the prospect of Sideswipe’s entire fist slipping inside was apparently enough to send Prowl hurtling over the edge into overload.

                Prowl turned his head and screamed into the floor, his doorwings snapping upright and quivering. The bowing of his back scraped his bumper along the decking and his whole body shook as he sobbed in ecstasy.

                All in all… the sight was more than enough to get Sunstreaker to the edge himself.

                In the corner of his optic, Sunstreaker saw Ratchet push himself to his feet. He shuffled over next to Sunstreaker and the three of them watched hungrily as Sideswipe eased Prowl through the last of the spasms. He licked and kissed his valve with ever lightening pressure until Prowl finally collapsed down onto the floor, doorwings spreading outward in a limp sprawl.

                As soon as Sideswipe sat up, Sunstreaker unerringly grabbed Ratchet’s shoulder and pushed him in Sideswipe’s direction.

                “Go,” Sunstreaker instructed, reeling a little with the sheer _need_ swirling in his spark. It was partly his because that had been a _good_ show, but in all honesty, most of it was Sideswipe’s.  

                Ratchet didn’t have to be told twice. He moved in front of Sideswipe, spreading his pedes and bracketing Sideswipe’s knees. Sideswipe tipped his head up, glancing hazily at Ratchet. He barely seemed to recognize him and his optics were almost immediately drawn back down to Ratchet’s hand rapidly sliding back and forth on his spike.

                “Ohhh…” he moaned, licking his lips over and over. “Yes… please, _please_ …”

                Sunstreaker shifted to the side a little, managing to capture the exact moment Ratchet’s transfluid landed on Sideswipe’s cheek. His brother would want to see it later, would want multiple pictures of the sight of him getting ‘claimed’.

                He would get revved up all over again and want Sunstreaker to overlay their claim with his, something Sunstreaker didn’t mind in the slightest.  

                “Jazz… your turn.”

                Sunstreaker turned to the mech next to him when he saw Ratchet begin to slump, hand stroking out the last few drops of fluids. Jazz moved to take Ratchet’s place as he listed off to the side, puffing with his exertions. Wobbling a little, Ratchet knelt down next to Prowl then and collapsed onto his aft, Prowl almost immediately curling up into his lap.

                As cute as that was, Sunstreaker had another set of image captures to get. Both for Sideswipe and for Sunstreaker’s own personal use. Jazz was _hot_ , often as uninhibited as Sideswipe. The way his back arched and bumper poked out prominently as he overloaded shot a bolt of lust straight through Sunstreaker.

                Jazz finally stumbled off, plopping back down into his original seat on the couch where he and Sunstreaker had just been sitting. Dazed, Sideswipe took a second to locate Sunstreaker. When his gaze finally latched on, he tried to shuffle closer, optics pleading.

                “Sunny… Sunny, _please_ …” Sideswipe whimpered, fingers grasping at the air in Sunstreaker’s direction.

                “Yes? What do you want, Sideswipe?” Sunstreaker asked silkily, slowly stepping forward while observing Sideswipe’s dripping face. He looked drunk, like he had consumed far too much high-grade. Sunstreaker knew Sideswipe would let anyone do just about anything to him right now.  

                “…you… please, want you… on my face… whatever you want, just…” Sideswipe slurred, his knees spreading invitingly. Sunstreaker spied a sizable puddle under his bared valve and Sideswipe’s firm spike leaked against his abdominal armor.

                “I… can do… that,” Sunstreaker replied shakily, all pretenses lost at the sight of his utterly debauched twin. He lasted another ten seconds, hand on his spike practically a blur, before his overload hit him like a blaster bolt. His hips snapped forward, more transfluid adding to the mess on Sideswipe’s face, some of it dripping off his chin to land on the floor.

                It was a fight to do so, but Sunstreaker kept his optics open the entire time, taking picture after picture for his brother to peruse later.

                When the spasms finally started to lesson, Sunstreaker dropped to his knees in front of his brother. Sideswipe swayed back and forth, optics closed. His expression was serene, and Sunstreaker couldn’t help leaning forward and licking between Sideswipe’s parted lips.

                He swallowed the surprised moan Sideswipe made when Sunstreaker reached down and tugged on Sideswipe’s spike. It took only two strokes and then Sideswipe fell forward, shuddering against Sunstreaker’s shoulder as his climax swept over him.

                “Fuck… oh, fuck, _yessss_ …” Sideswipe groaned, smashing his face into Sunstreaker’s throat. Sunstreaker made a face at the sensation of cooling transfluid sliding down his cables but didn’t let it hinder him holding Sideswipe close. He would get his brother to wash out all the crevices later anyway.

                “… good, so good… thank you… _love you_ …” The words were muffled and nearly incoherent, but Sunstreaker managed to make them out.

                “Don’t forget to thank the others,” Sunstreaker murmured. His fingers tightened on Sideswipe’s back and he pulsed a ball of affection and love across their bond, one which Sideswipe dreamily snuggled down into.

                After nearly a minute of trembling against him, Sideswipe finally pushed himself upright. He blinked at Sunstreaker and gave him a dopey looking smile before looking off to the side at Jazz.

                “ _Definitely_ have to thank the others. Think I know where to start,” he said, falling onto his hands and knees. Sunstreaker sat back and enjoyed the view as Sideswipe started crawling away towards the owner of an eagerly glowing visor. 

 

~ End


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